Escape (Chronicles of Hart) (2 page)

The property surrounding the church was large with thick tall stone walls hiding it from the outside world. It sat like a fortress in solitude, separated from the town by the steep incline of the hill it decorated. The forest grew around it, ever nearer as it encroached on to the property inch by inch
, year after year. The fiery trees dotting the edges of the forest had long since lost most of their leaves onto the church grounds. Grace had watched them as their greens melded into yellows, oranges and reds. From her tower Grace could see beyond the walls and into the village streets.

Fancy stores dotted the main street just a few blocks away, closest to the winding road that lead to the church drive. Most people from the town did not venture out this way. Occasionally a stray teenager or two would get close to the property, snooping around the grounds like they were approaching a haunted house. Then the ground security guard would confront them, usually putting on a show of calling for backup that would send the kids scrambling for the trees. They were never caught. The guards were far too lazy to chase anyone anyway. Grace was sure there was some sort of scary legend keeping most of the kids away and only the bravest ones wandering out from the trees on Halloween night, trying to get a sneak peek of the creepy church in the moonlight. They usually took off quickly
, afraid of getting police involved or their parents called. The truth was the guards were not allowed to call the police; they would risk Grace being found. Sometimes while she was watching a group of teens dash wildly back into the woods at night, she wondered how that conversations would go if the police ever
did
show up at the church. Even if they moved her out in secret, how do you explain the living arrangements set up in the bell tower of an abandoned church that was being renovated?

Grace had been chipping away at the window trim for months. She was getting close enough to test out her escape plan. This time she had prepared for everything, tucking away helpful things for a couple of years now. She was ready to leave the tower. And after years of tracking, she even knew where the closest police station was. She had watched their cars and plotted their routes, knowing it could make or break her escape. She would need their help once she was free of the tower if she hoped to remain a part of the outside world and avoid being sucked back into oblivion.

Tomorrow was the day. She was growing nervous anticipating the adrenaline rush of freedom, pouring over every detail in calculated concentration. The morning guards were always a little sluggish and the night guards were quick to make their own escape as their duty ended. No one stopped to chat at morning shift change and Grace could sneak away before they had a chance to finish their coffees and forget to feed her. It would be perfect.

KNIGHT

As he trudged through the forest towards the church, he felt a looming dread. He had assured them that the plan was fail safe. It was better that they be kept in the dark for now. Too much noise was sure to wake the sleeping dragon, a cost he could not afford just yet.

The leaves crunched ominously under his feet, threatening to give him away. Soon night would be falling and he was ready. Crouched in the woods he went over the plan in his head for a final time
, as the sun sunk lower in the sky. He waited for the right moment, hoping his timing was as impeccable as it was in his head.

Steeling himself for the scourge, he pulled a grappling hook from his shoulder. Unraveling the trail of rope onto the ground beside him, he approached the wall. He sized it up, taking one last breath as he paced looking to the tower, his goal. With a grand swing he launched his arm into the air letting the hook rise in an arc. The hook passed the wall colliding with the other side of the stone. Tugging back to test the hook, it was unsecure and toppled back towards his feet landing with a loud thud inches from his toes. He flinched. He braced himself and tried again, cautiously lopping the hook over the chipped stone facade. Rocks tumbled to his feet loudly over the silent evening, but the hook remained secure giving him a chance to clamour over.

Pulling himself up, he felt elation looming closer than ever. The tower shone in the setting sun, a beacon of hope. Mirrors reflecting the sky gave the tower a strange look, like it held the sunset trapped inside its stone arches a prisoner in the dark of night. The windows shone like diamonds against the decaying rocks and collapsing roof that held above. He took an extra moment at the top of the rock wall, looking to the strange sight in awe of its rustic beauty. As he landed he scrambled for cover knowing the guards were the next obstacle on his quest to the inner tower walls. He felt like a knight, armoured and on the rescue mission of his life. He was ready to prove his worthiness and although the adrenaline rush was powering him through. The closer he got to the tower, the more he fought to get inside. He felt as though his very life depended upon getting up into the bell tower of this decrepit church before it crumbled at his feet from decay.

A guard was close. He could hear footsteps in the yard, maybe the rustling of leaves if he really strained his ears. He dashed from tree to bush for cover, making his way to the open church doors with cautious calculations. He tumbled into a bush, taking a face full of dirt to avoid making too much sound. As he stopped to catch his bearings, he looked over the grounds from the cover of the brambles around him. The church doors appeared before him, vacant and ajar. Propped open for fresh air and to carry out the moulding stench that wafted from within its walls. He searched the area between with cautious shifting eyes, wary that he hadn’t seen a guard yet and with one last leap he raced to the opening sprinting as fast as his legs would carry.

He hit the front steps and with a tug on his shoulder, he fell to the ground.
Shit,
he thought as he slammed into the worn edges of the steps. He had hoped to avoid the guards for a while longer. This was going to make it more difficult to get in now. His bags contents scattered across the steps as his full messenger bag ripped down the seam. It fell from his side as he struggled, scattering coils of rope and files across the stoop tumbling into the muddy grass as they rolled away no longer of any use to him in his mission. The plan had changed and it was time to roll with the punches.

Rolling over, he kicked out fiercely with a wild well of rage hitting the guard in the hand. A gun fired as a look of shock registered across the guards face, freezing him for a moment as he wondered where his bullet had escaped to. When he had caught himself, the guard leapt forward and pinned his intruder with knees to the arms. Sitting heavily on his chest, the guard reached for a radio. “Walt, I need backup,” he growled, gasping at the exertion.  It w
as soon followed by a muffled, “On my way.” This was not going as planned. The guard kicked him over using a reserve of energy that had likely been uncalled on for some years. He gasped as he pulled the tie from his uniform while sitting heavily on top to bind the struggling man’s hands behind his back. The knot was useless, but it was enough to keep his hands in one place while the guard dragged him through the door into the church.

As he was dragged into the church an overwhelming dread passed through him. He had just awoken the dragon. His muscles seized up as he bucked against the callous tugs of the guard at his feet. He scraped against the rough splintery floor, fighting to get back into the evening air. If he was discovered and brought before the beast
, they would all be killed and until now the gravity of the situation had failed to sink in.

The floor was rough and splintered at his face while the man pulled at his feet. Once through the blistered archway
, his feet were dropped with a loud clunk against the wooden floorboards, sending a plume of dirt and sawdust up into his eyes. He blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision as a door across the room opened and a second guard entered.

The floor was infested with termites. Looking across to the door he could see sections of the floor that were ready to collapse into the ground, worn through with footsteps and failed renovations. He could see the lines where the pews had once stood. Now all that was left was a vacant room of staring angels, broken in their teetering pewter glass frames. They had been boarded in patches to keep the outside world away. It was horrifying to look at the once beautiful masterpiece of the old town, now fallen to ruin at the hands of the devil himself.

“Take him to the cellar,” the new guard demanded, standing framed in a doorway. Light spilled out behind him, his voice was deep and he towered over the first guard as he walked into the room seemingly in charge.

“Give me a hand Walt,” whined the man at his feet, looking like a powerless child struggling with a backpack after school. Walt took a foot, rolling his eyes to the ceiling in disgust. They dragged him to the door on the other side of the room where Walt had first entered. He squirmed, fighting back. He tried to get his arms loose to fight, fearing that if he was dragged any farther into the madness of this place he would be set to face Lucifer, the dragon of the castle. One of his feet hit the floor again. He looked up into the eyes of the scruffy large guard holding his gun out of the holster at his waist, pointed just slightly, enough to aim at his heart.

“Don’t make me give you a reason to fight,” His voice echoed in the almost empty room, the glass angels looked on in silence from their wilted thrones. “I’ll mess you up kid,” He grunted into the stale air taking a short intimidating lunge at his prey before returning to his feet.

A moment later the dragging resumed and he was tugged over the threshold of the small door. He looked back into the vacant room one last time as the angels were pulled out of sight.

On the other side, a set of worn stone steps hammered at his cheek, he fought the urge to fight back. He knew that the gun was still in Walt’s hand, ready to take a piece off of him if he gave a reason. His arms, still bound behind his back, offered little resistance to his battered face. The air was mouldy and tickled at his nose as he struggled to breath between the hammering of the steps. He resisted the urge to sneeze, fearing the impending pain of the hard steps. His shoulder had taken much of the jarring force of each stone edge, yet his face throbbed in protest. The staircase grew steeper as the light of the upper floor faded slowly away.

The stone of the steps gave way to dirt and gravel as the staircase came to an abrupt end. Sections of the floor seemed harder
, as if the underlay was wood planks, lost under years of debris. The room was dark and cluttered with the gutted remains of the now empty main floor of the church. Large splinters from broken pews clung at his clothing as he was dragged a few feet into the space. The guards fumbled trying to retain their grasp as they reached for their flashlights, no longer able to see in the dim fading light filtering from the stairwell.

“Tie him to a post, I’ll check on the girl
,” said the smaller of the two, suddenly acting like the boss. He turned against the dark short room and sprinted up the stairs slowly, leaving him fending against the tall hulking beast called Walt. He could hear the footsteps of the smaller guard stumbling up the stairs as he raced away from his duties.

When the first guard was out of sight Walt spoke again, “I’m not paid enough for this crap
,” he snipped staring into his victims eyes for a moment too long. Lifting his flashlight over his head, he swung it down, cracking it over the intruders head with a deafening thud of metal hitting skull. He held on for a moment longer as blood began to trickle down his forehead and into his eye, in a haze he could see the flashlight being lifted again, he blinked against the glare of the bulb.

Then the world went dark.

ESCAPE

As
dusk approached, Grace stared out the window watching the dark slithering over the scarcely full trees of the forest. The bare branches reached into the dark oblivion of the sky giving her the chills. Soon they would all be barren and it would be another year locked up for her. She looked at the stone wall as movement caught her eye. A shadowy figure was moving along the stone wall, coming from the woods on the other side. It could be an animal, Grace thought leaning in to the glass for a better look. A person wouldn’t be in the woods this late, not even a hunter. Grace watched as the figure paced the wall, throwing something over the edge. Her curiosity peaked as she stood, pressing her hands to the glass in wonder. The shape disappeared for a moment lost in the shadow of the stone wall and she found herself standing on her tip toes to look for whatever it was. She watched as a rope swung above the wall, disappearing back into the forest. A moment later it reappeared, crossing over the wall and hooking to a rock at the top. Grace stared on, puzzled by the development. Then the dark shape came looming over the top of the wall pausing at the top like a large jungle cat before dropping heavily in the church yard. It scampered off into a bush before she could get a good look.

Someone had climbed the wall. Her brain was screaming at her as her curiosity turned into horror;
someone has climbed the wall!
The shape neared the church, sneaking through the trees as if hiding from a predator. Only Grace from her vantage point could see the movement of the shadowy shape as it lunged from tree to tree like a wisp of smoke, tucking into the branches and disappearing for moments at a time before swirling back out unexpectedly, leaping closer to the door. The ground level guard exited the church doors to go for his perimeter check. Grace held her breath as the shape leapt from within a bush to reach the door. The guard yelped and a gunshot fired into the silence sending Grace jumping back across her small room in shock. She stared at the wall in a daze for a moment wondering how this would affect her predicament.

Grace heard a shuffle outside her door. She skittered quietly over, pressing her ear against the soft wood to listen. She heard a muffled static and th
en the guard on the intercom, "On my way," he shouted sounding panicked as his chair scraped across the floor falling over with a clatter. Grace scrambled to clean up her mess, scraping the pile of dust and broken trim under her bed and stashing the fork she had kept under her mattress. She quietly sat, picking up the book Walter the guard had let her have three years ago, waiting to see where his hurried footsteps would take him. Romeo and Juliet, she still had never read it, yet it was worn from all the times she had pretended.

The chair in the hall scraped against the floor as it was pulled upright. Walter was leaving. Footsteps, loud and heavy down the rickety stairs that led to her door told her something was wrong. This intruder had caused them to set off the alarms. Doors were slamming. The guards were shouting to one another in the distance below her. Grace stood to see out the window. Someone was trying to fight his way in.
who would want so badly to break IN to an emancipated building like this?
Grace thought. And what would they think when they realised there were guards stationed here? Maybe it would make the news. Maybe someone would investigate and maybe they would find her! Or, thought Grace bitterly, maybe they would kill him and maybe they would move her. Then she would have to start her escape all over again. She was about to lose five years worth of plotting and planning. All of her hard work thrown out the window because a stranger decided to have a look at the creepy church at the top of the hill. Grace sat quietly by the window watching as the guard kicked the man, tied his arms and dragged him back through the front doors. She was sure as he was turned towards the building he had looked right at her, but she knew the glass was mirror on his side. He didn't know she was up there. Still she scowled back at the face that had ruined her almost perfect escape.

Two minutes passed and the commotion downstairs had quieted down. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest as she contemplated her options. She still hadn't heard Walter return up the stairs with his heavy shoes on the wooden steps;

“This is it.” whispered Grace, turning to her bed shakily.

She had been waiting for a distraction for months now, hoping for the right moment to test her escape plan before she had settled for the morning espionage she had planned for the next day. Her schedule would be moving up just slightly and she hoped that her nerves would quickly be calmed by the rush of adrenaline that was pouring through her veins at the thought of freedom. Grace darted under her mattress retrieving the fork and a small pillowcase of things she had gathered over the years that she thought might be helpful when it came down to the wire. Hairpins, extra clothing that she had tucked away before they had become too worn through, and some granola bars that she had saved from meals when Walter had enjoyed her protein shake and given her something from his own lunch to replace it. It was enough to get by, she hoped, if she had to take cover for a while to get to the police station safely. She didn’t expect it to take her long to reach the police station in the close by town of Monticello. She had grown up there before the kidnapping and vaguely remembered the streets by sight, never having seen them from this birds’ eye vantage until three years ago. It had twisted her perspective of the town slightly. She knew how long it should take her to get over the wall and down the sloped hill into town, having timed it in her head nearly every night, pace for pace. She looked out the window one last time before darting across the room for her things.

She moved back to the window excitedly, using the fork to pry the glass in; just enough that she could grab it by hand. She ducked down as she pulled it back, "this should work
," she grunted as her arms strained pulling against the resistance of the remaining trim. With a strange sucking sound the glass came free, she smiled with wide eyes. It was heavier than she expected. She teetered, holding the panel with two cautious hands hoping not to slice them open before it fell at her feet in a large piece. Only one crack appeared, running up the middle of the previously shatterproof guard. Stepping back before it fell on her, she quickly reached under her bed for the pile of linens she had hoarded over the last few years. All tied perfectly with the knots she had practiced, and strong enough to support her weight all the way to the ground. She fastened the end to the post of the bed, like she had seen in movies as a child. Pulling the glass across the room and out of her way she carefully pushed the remainder of the linen out through the open window. She tugged her bed closer to the gaping hole, knowing it would move anyway when she started down the wall. She froze as the stairs began to creak. It was Steve, the other security guard. She could tell by the lighter footfalls and the hesitation at the top. She hadn't expected they would be done with the intruder so soon. She hadn’t heard any more gunfire and no one else had arrived at the grounds to take him away. Moving as quietly as she could, Grace messed up her sheets enough to cover up the obvious escape attempt and turned to sit on her mattress. She hid her pillowcase behind her as she stared at the closed door separating her from Steve. She hoped he wouldn’t come in. She needed more time to cover this up so she could try again in the morning. That is if she was still here when the sun rose. Grace was flustered. This intruder had ruined her escape with his horrible timing.

There came a knock on the door followed shortly by a brisk," I’m coming in
." as Steve jangled his keys to unlock her door. Grace panicked. She knew they would move her if they saw the window off and her sheet rope dangling out, to another tower, to another room. Five years wasted plotting her escape. All ruined by one mysterious stranger. This would not do. Grace would not give up without a fight. As the doorknob turned, Grace made up her mind. Sneaking behind the door she waited. Steve stepped into the room timidly, as though she were the criminal in this situation and not he, “Grace, Grace where are you?” He demanded in a sing-song voice.  As he was taking a step further in past the door Grace stepped out into sight. She swung her pillowcase filled with the supplies she had saved at the side of his head, causing him to drop his keys as he stumbled reaching to protect his face. He tripped over the sheet of glass into the side of her lumpy bed. Grace scooped the keys up and raced out the door defiantly slamming it as she fumbled for the correct key to lock it back up with Steve inside. She could hear him swearing at her from the other side as she dropped the keys to the floor. He pounded against the door, barely moving it against its frame. Grace stopped a second to take in her new surroundings. She had only seen this side of the door once. It had been three years ago when the old guard Derrick had accidentally left the door unlocked after delivering her supplies. She had snuck out then with her arms still shackled, only to be caught moments later fleeing down the stairs. It would be different this time; Grace knew she had to be careful. Being captured this time would mean starting her escape plans all over somewhere new and that was if they let her live through another transfer. With one guard locked up and the other preoccupied, she hoped she had enough time to get free. She knew Steve would radio Walter to tell him what had happened, backup would be called. But for now she was running for her freedom.

Grace crept down the stairs careful to avoid any creaking in the wooden steps as she kept her pace fast and light. The tower stairs wound round and down for what seemed like forever. She crept, as stealthily as she could, knowing how much noise the guards usually made when they were barging up and down in their heavy boots. She didn’t want to tip Walt off wherever he was in the church. Grace had never been this far down the stairs. She wished they would end soon. A door appeared in the wall at a short landing, but the stairs continued on. Grace stopped to check the knob but the door was locked; she would have to continue on. Several spirals later Grace found herself at an opening as the end of the stairs collided with a rough stone arch leading into a dank dark space that smelled wet and earthy. Grace was thrilled, she had missed the smells of the outside world and the dark was nothing new for her. The tower had had no lights, only windows to let in the sun. As Grace crept into the blackened room, she heard a shuffle above her. The floorboards above her head creaked and she listened to Walter speaking. ‘Sir, its Grace, she has left her tower, yes sir, we have him. No sir, yes sir, right away sir. We’ll be expecting them. Thank you, sir.” The footsteps moved away and Grace heard footfalls ascending the stairs. Walter must be on his way to retrieve Steve. It sounded like they had called for reinforcements at last. Luckily reinforcements were rarely given the whole story and would take a while to get to the remote church. It would risk too many people knowing about Grace`s predicament. Judging from her previous experiences this meant she was relatively safe, for now.